As it turned out, Los Banos had a few different inns located throughout the town. This was fortunate, because it meant Alain could both have a place to stay for the night, and he could rest without having to worry about bumping into Sable and Az. The night's sleep he got after leaving Felix's saloon was one of the best he'd had in a long time as a result.

Alain sat up in bed, stretching as he did so. He looked out the window, noting that it was already late in the morning. Part of him wanted to go back to sleep, but at the same time, he knew he couldn't.

That didn't mean he couldn't relax in other ways, though – after all, Felix's bar had a few poker tables in it, and while he didn't have much cash on him, he had enough that he could go a few rounds just for fun.

With that in mind, Alain got dressed, then grabbed his hat and set it on his head. He clipped on his gun belt, slipping his prized Colt into its holster. It felt bad to leave his shotgun behind, but it didn't make much sense for him to bring it with him if Felix was just going to confiscate it.

Besides, he was just going for a few rounds of poker. What was the worst that could happen?

–

"You're back," Felix greeted, looking up from the bar as Alain stepped in. "What'll it be? Same thing as yesterday?"

"Not quite," Alain said. "I'm looking to play a few rounds of cards."

"You're in luck – a few of the regulars have just started a game. I'm sure they wouldn't mind you sitting in, provided you don't win too much."

"I don't think they'll have to worry about that," Alain mentioned. "I've only got a few spare dollars on me. I'm just looking to kill some time and have some fun more than anything."

"That so? You know, Los Banos is the same as any other frontier town – there's a brothel if you know where to look-"

"Thanks, but no thanks. Last thing I need is the clap."

"Ha! Yeah, that's understandable, I suppose." Felix looked around Alain, then focused on the back table behind him. "Hey, fellas! Got room for one more over there?!"

"Send him over," the man serving as the dealer said. "Provided his money's good, that is."

"It's as good as anyone else's," Alain said as he moved to the table and pulled up a chair. He tipped his hat to the other players. "Good to meet you boys."

They all nodded. There were four of them – three players and a dealer. They were all dressed similarly to him – jeans, plaid shirts, and leather vests, along with revolvers holstered at their hips. That was where the similarities mostly ended, however.

"Introduce yourselves, fellas," the dealer implored. "It's the least you can do before you take all his money."

"Nice to meet you," one of them said. "Name's Jack Williamson."

Jack was a younger guy, around twenty-one if Alain had to wager a guess. He was short, about five-and-a-half feet, with green eyes and short blonde hair. He was clean-shaven, which showed off a jagged scar on the right side of his face.

"He don't care about you, Jack," one of the other men admonished. He was taller, standing a few inches shorter than Alain did, with black hair long enough to cover his ears, and a full beard. He had a cigar chomped between his teeth, and was talking around it. "How you doin'? Call me Rusty. I'd give you my last name, but I don't want you huntin' me down once I take all your money."

Alain nodded, then looked over to the last player. He was an older gentleman just under six feet, with a shaved head and a handlebar mustache. He was so focused on his cards that he seemed to have not even noticed Alain sit down.

"Hey, Hank," the dealer said. The older man looked up in surprise; the dealer motioned towards Alain, and Hank turned towards him, then nodded.

"Pleasure to meet you," was all he said, before looking back to his cards.

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The dealer let out a gruff sigh. "Don't mind ol' Hank – he don't mean nothin' by it, he's just quiet by nature. Has been ever since he served in the war as a young kid."

Alain was surprised. "He was in the war?"

"Aye, he was," Rusty confirmed with a nod. "Served with General Beauregard, he did. Lied about his age to get in, even – said he was eighteen when really he was fifteen."

"Should we really be talking about him behind his back?" the dealer asked.

Rusty waved him off. "Hank don't mind, he's too focused on the cards to care. Ain't that right, Hank?"

Hank didn't even give a response. Instead, he picked up his cards and threw them on the table.

"I'm out," he said, his voice quiet.

"You ain't even gonna see what the other cards in the river are?" the dealer asked.

"Nope. Something tells me this hand isn't going to go my way."

The dealer shrugged. "Suit yourself, old timer." He looked back to Alain. "Name's Gabriel Redd. Everyone calls me either Gabe or Redd, though – which one depends on which town I end up in. Here, they tend to prefer Redd, unless they're purposely trying to mess me up somehow."

Alain nodded in understanding. Redd was also older, standing at about the same height as Rusty, but with a few extra wrinkles on his face, plus a heavy tan. He was slightly overweight, and had a receding hairline, but at the same time, he had a friendly expression on his face.

"We'll deal you in on the next hand," he offered. "Provided you tell us your name, of course."

"Alain Smith," Alain replied. "Came into town a little while ago on a job. Nothing major – just escorting some prissy brat and her bodyguard here."

"The hell did they want to come here for?" Rusty asked. "Ain't nothing out here."

"Beats me," Alain said with a shrug. "Something about just wanting to get to the next town. I've learned not to question it – they're both weird."

"Is her bodyguard that tall fella in the nice suit I've been seeing around occasionally?" Jack asked. "Because if so… shit, I can see why he became a bodyguard."

"You guys all ready?" Redd asked. "Because here's the first three."

He flipped over three cards one by one. "Ace of hearts, two of diamonds, five of diamonds."

"Shit…" Rusty breathed. "Jack, you got all the good cards or something? I don't have anything."

"Nice try," Jack chastised. "You're lying through your teeth."

"What can I say? Poker is all about bluffing."

"Then you should probably do a better job of it. Bet, twenty-five cents."

"Raise to fifty cents."

"Call."

"One of you assholes is bluffing, I'm just not sure who," Redd chimed in. "Alright, next one. Queen of clubs."

Jack let out a low whistle. "Bet, seventy-five cents."

Rusty grinned, showing off a mouth full of missing teeth. "Call."

"Last one," Redd told them. "Ten of spades. Well, shit, looks like the river ain't gonna be of any help unless one of you was sitting on something good." He turned towards Jack. "Show 'em."

Jack laid his cards out on the table. "Two pair, fives and aces."

"Not bad," Rusty said. "Pair, queens."

"Told you that you needed to do a better job of it," Jack chastised as he pulled his winnings in.

Rusty shrugged. "Sometimes the cards just ain't in your favor."

"Alright, first deal goes to our new friend here," Redd announced, passing Alain his first card. "That is, I assume he'll be a new friend."

"Depends on how much he wins," Jack said, grinning.

"Or how much I lose," Alain added.

–

A few hours later, and against all odds, Alain was actually doing pretty good. He'd gone in with three dollars to play with, and was now up to almost twenty, much to the chagrin of the other players.

"Some fellas get all the luck…" Rusty bemoaned as he stared at his cards. "Fold, again."

"Alright, Rusty's out," Redd announced. "Last card… eight of spades." He looked to Alain. "Show 'em."

"Aces and eights," Alain announced.

"Son of a bitch…" Jack groaned. "Aces are fuckin' stuck to his hand… pair of nines."

"Pair of kings," Hank offered. He looked to Alain, then gave him an approving nod. "Well played."

"Thanks," Alain replied. "You know, fellas, I feel bad about taking all your money. Think it's time I gave some of it back. You all like whiskey?"

"Damn right," Rusty said with a nod. "Especially if someone else is paying for it."

"Hell, might as well get something for my money, yeah?" Jack added.

Alain cupped his hands around his mouth as he looked back to the bar. "Hey, Felix! Can we get a round of whiskey for all the guys at this table? And leave the bottle, if you don't mind."

"You've got it, high roller," Felix called back.

Jack stared at him in surprise. "Hell, you know what? You're alright, Smith."

"Figured it's the least I can do," Alain offered.

"Good friends and a bottle of whiskey," Redd announced. "Don't get much better than that. Right, Hank?"

Hank looked up from his cards, then nodded. "Sure don't."

Felix came and dropped off the bottle, along with several glasses. Everyone filled up, then went back to the game. They had just started on their next hand when, out of the corner of his eye, Alain saw two people enter. The badges pinned to their shirts gave them away as lawmen.

"Look sharp," he said to the other players. "Looks like we're about to have trouble."

"Well, looky here," one of the men said as he approached. He was about Alain's height, with a bushy brown mustache and a sharp southern twang to his voice. "Who's up so far?"

"That'd be me," Alain offered. "Can I help you boys with something?"

"Don't think so, unless you're willing to part with some of that whiskey."

Alain hesitated, then offered the man his glass. "Help yourself."

"Hell, don't mind if I do."

The man ignored Alain's glass, instead reaching for the bottle. He took a big sip from it, then passed it to the other deputy who did the same before putting it back on the table.

"There a problem, Deputy Timms, Deputy Brayton?" Redd asked, looking to each man in turn.

"No problem," the other man, Deputy Brayton, replied. He was shorter than Timms by a few inches, with light brown hair and a five-o'-clock shadow. For the first time, Alain noticed that both men seemed to have unnaturally bright blue eyes, though he was quick to play it off as a trick of the light more than anything, since nothing else made sense to him.

"Then why are you here?" Rusty questioned.

"Lawmen need to relax, too," Timms said. "Besides, Sheriff Adams needed us out of the office for a bit. Something about patrolling for drunkards. Wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"No drunkards here," Hank said softly. "Just started on our first, 'fore you all showed up."

"That so?" Brayton said. "Well, then we'd best get out of your hair. Don't need to be throwing you off your game." He turned to leave, then looked over to Alain, a thin smirk crossing his face. "And this must be the newcomer. Welcome to Los Banos, mister…?"

"Smith," Alain offered.

"Smith. Just a warning, though – don't go causing trouble for anyone."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Alain said.

Brayton nodded, then looked back to Timms. "Come on. Let's go see what Felix has for us today."

With that, both men walked off. The four of them watched them go, then Redd turned towards Alain.

"Ignore them," he said. "They're a pair of horse's asses. How they got to be deputies, I've got no idea; all they do is stir up trouble wherever they go. Still, they're a nuisance more than anything; nothing to worry about with them."

Alain nodded in understanding, then turned his attention back to his cards. It didn't really matter to him what the deputies thought – with any luck, he'd be out of this town sooner rather than later.